


Flight Risk

by grey2510, ThayerKerbasy



Series: Hell on Earth [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awesome Eileen Leahy, Dean has a Fear of Flying, Gen, Hellhounds, Juliet is a delightful murder beast, M/M, Post-Episode: s12e23 All Along the Watchtower, Púca | Pooka, Sam Winchester is So Done, Vacation, bickering like an old married couple, hunter and hellhound bonding, planes, seriously they're grumpy bastards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 02:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13965483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey2510/pseuds/grey2510, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThayerKerbasy/pseuds/ThayerKerbasy
Summary: Sam, Dean, Cas, and Juliet are finally going on vacation: visiting Eileen in Ireland for some well deserved R&R. But they have to get there first. By plane. (Well, not Juliet: they don't make dog carriers for hellhounds and besides, she's not a common dog. She's got important things to do, like help Eileen on a hunt, and she can get there a lot faster than humans can in their flying metal beasts.)It goes about as well as you'd expect...





	Flight Risk

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely inspired by the many posts going around after 13x15 wondering about Cas' trip. And a certain movie, but it's mentioned in the fic, so you'll figure it out.

Juliet had a very good home with very good people in it. Since leaving Hell behind, she had visited Connall and the other ‘hounds a few times, but each time she left, she was happier when she returned to her people. She was still a hellhound, but there wasn’t much of Hell in her anymore.

Her new life was comfortable. She only hunted things that deserved to die, because her people were more than happy to share their own fire-touched meats. Thanks to her master, she rested each night on a bed of soft things that still bore the smell of her former master. She was even kept happy and entertained by their wonderful, magic home, which played fetch with her when her people were busy. In short, Juliet was happy.

Change was an expected thing in their lives. Juliet never knew what the day might hold, whether they would hunt a vamp or stay home and watch stories on the laptop. One day, though, her master decided to pack a lot of his things in a large rectangular container and didn’t say anything about their plans.

Was he leaving? Juliet would go with him if he wanted to leave, but she had grown rather attached to sunshine/magic/that-smell-before-it-rains Cas and coffee/old books Samoose, not to mention the Bunker Palace. Were they going to hunt on their own? Had her master finally decided to go back to being a proper demon? She wasn’t sure if she’d like that so much anymore.

Rather than wait in suspense, Juliet barked to get her master’s attention, then pawed the container of clothing, tilted her head and whined.

Her master chuckled. “S’okay, Juliet. We’re just gonna go on a little trip.”

Oh. Okay. But for hunting trips her master only ever took a bag with a few changes of clothing and his talking-to-people suit. There was a lot of clothing going into the fabric box. Juliet could put the puzzle together. It was going to be a long trip. Why?

She whined at her master again, hoping he would give her more information. Instead, he only ruffled her ears and said, “You’re a good dog, y’know that?”

Juliet was a good dog, true. It was nice to have it acknowledged, though. Basking in that praise, she almost missed her master’s next words.

“It’d be a bad idea to bring you on a plane — can you even imagine trying to put you in a cargo container? But there’s a hunt in Ireland and Eileen could really use some help with it. It’ll take us awhile to get over there, but I know you can get there super quick. Think you’d mind going to help Eileen? Me ‘n Cas ‘n Sam’ll still go, but it’d make me feel a whole lot better if I knew you were there to look out for Eileen.”

Books/beer/gunpowder/Samoose Eileen? Juliet _really_ liked Eileen. If Eileen needed help, Juliet would gladly help. Without waiting another moment, Juliet launched herself through the nearest shadow in search of Eileen’s scent.

 

* * *

 

Sam's phone buzzed as he slumped down into an only marginally more comfortable position in the hard plastic chair in the terminal. He pulled it out to find a blueish picture of Juliet sitting proudly in Eileen's passenger seat, undoubtedly ready to defend her car from all the other cars on the road. Apparently, holding the holy oil glasses over the camera lens worked just as well. Probably better than scorching an iPhone.

 **EILEEN:** Ready to go puca hunting!  
**SAM:** Good luck! Not that you need it :) I'll let you know when we take off  
**EILEEN:** Flight still delayed?  
**SAM:** Yep...dean's gonna wear a hole in the carpet

Sam looked at the industrial grey-blue interior decorating disaster under his boots and, smirking, tapped out another text.

 **SAM:** Might be an improvement in the decor. Unless I kill him first  
**EILEEN:** He cant be *that* bad  
**SAM:** Even cas looks ready to smite him  
**EILEEN:** Oh yikes  
**EILEEN:** Well good luck! Have fun! Dont get arrested for murder before I get to see you ;)  
**SAM:** I'll try my best

He hesitated, wondering if sending a heart emoji would be too sappy. Hell, he could hear Dean's voice in his head already making fun of him for the smiley face he sent earlier.

Then again, who was Dean kidding: Sam'd seen the dopey look on his brother's face whenever Cas, Emoji and Emoticon Lover of the Lord, sent him a text.

 _Fuck it_ , he thought, and sent a little pink heart before he could second-guess himself. He was about to put the phone away when it buzzed once more. Eileen had sent a kissy-face back, and Sam grinned. He rode that high for about .2 seconds, which was when Cas and Dean started up their pissy arguing again.

"Come _on_ , how long we gonna have to be here?" Dean grumbled, throwing himself huffily into the seat next to Cas, who was sitting in the row of seats across from Sam.

Cas barely looked up from his book. "I would have thought you would prefer having more time on the ground. Besides, the TV says we should be boarding in twenty minutes."

Dean gave Cas a disgusted look. "I just want to get this bullshit over with. And don't you give me this 'holier than thou' attitude—"

"Well, I am a celestial being."

"—Mr. Security is Taking Too Long So I'm Gonna Jedi Mind Trick My Way Through," Dean continued, hissing the last part so that it was likely only Sam and the woman sitting two seats down and pretending to be _very_ invested in her Kindle could hear him.

Whatever response Cas made, Sam missed because he got up under the pretense of stretching his legs and checking the Departures screen again. It didn't have anything new to tell him, and so he wandered around the terminal. It was pretty empty since they were on what was supposed to be a 10:30 pm flight. It was 11:30 now. They'd hoped that by showing up in Ireland so early in the morning, they'd be able to catch a little bit of sleep before starting their vacation in earnest. Now, it was looking like they might be landing around dawn.

Not that they'd ever really had normal sleep schedules; hunting wasn't exactly a 9-5 kind of job.

Regardless, Sam just wanted to get there already. It'd been a month since he'd seen Eileen and he was excited that they were actually going somewhere for _fun_ for a change. Eileen was finishing up a hunt with Juliet, and then unless the world ended (he really shouldn't joke about that…), they were monster-free for a week.

He'd made a few circles around the terminal and bought himself a bag of dried fruit and an iced tea from the one overpriced kiosk still open when the PA system announced that their flight would begin boarding shortly. He hurried back to their seats to find Dean and Cas not speaking to each other, Cas supposedly engrossed in his book, and Dean sitting with his arms crossed and his knee jiggling a mile a minute. Cas reached over and stilled the knee with a hand, and Dean sent him daggers with his eyes that Cas resolutely ignored. Sam sighed and gathered up his carry-on and backpack.

"Whoa, calm down there, Sammy. We ain't boarding for awhile."

Sam shifted the straps on his shoulders and eyed the line already forming: first class and anyone who needed to board separately or with assistance. "Yeah, well, um... _I'm_ boarding now."

Dean straightened up in his chair, and even Cas' eyes made an appearance, peering up at Sam.

"Wait, why're _you_ boarding now?" Dean asked.

"I'm in first class?"

Cas titled his head, but Dean asked the question he was obviously thinking. "What? How come you're first class and we're stuck in the back?"

"Extra legroom?" _I didn't want to sit near you and listen to you two argue for ten hours?_

"Oh yeah, of _course_ , extra legroom. 'Cause we're fucking munchkins over here, eh, Cas?"

Cas turned to Dean and arched an eyebrow. "You always make fun of my height."

"Really, _now's_ the time you're gonna bring that up? You're gonna be mad at _me_ and not _Sam_ for ditching us to sit in the nice, cushy chairs?"

Leaving them to it, Sam joined the line, smiled at the flight attendant when she scanned the ticket he pulled up on his phone, settled quite comfortably into his seat (it really was nice and cushy), jammed his earbuds in, and closed his eyes so he could pretend not to notice when Cas and Dean finally made it onto the plane and walked past.

 

* * *

 

Juliet had never fought a púca before, but Eileen assured her that they were a real danger and that was why she needed help. They were shape changers, appearing variously as black horses, twisted goat men, bird-like creatures, and one truly disturbing not-dog. Juliet couldn’t kill them, but she could hurt them, so she bit and clawed at the spirits around her, keeping them busy so Eileen could take them out one by one.

It had been ages since something had really challenged Juliet’s abilities, but keeping the púca from hurting Eileen was exactly the sort of thing she had been trained to do. It felt wonderful to be able to do what she did best.

Her claws laid open the flank of a not-horse that had been trying to convince Eileen to get on its back, apparently unaware that Eileen couldn’t hear it. Juliet’s mouth lolled open in a hellhound grin. Her master had the best ideas. She was only disappointed he wasn’t there to share the fun.

 

* * *

 

Dean was tempted to yank Sam's earbuds out as he inched by in the narrow aisle, but Cas' hand darted out and grasped his wrist before he could, then he quelled any other similar thoughts with a smiteful look. Just as well, even if Dean wouldn't admit it, since it gave him a chance to hold Cas' hand, which was comforting, despite the fact that Cas was annoyed. The only reason he'd wanted to mess with Sam was to avoid thinking about how he was being herded like a sheep to the fucking slaughter in this damn tin can that was about to go hurtling over the fucking _ocean_ at a bagillion miles an hour all so they could go see Sam's girlfriend.

Ok, that was unfair. Eileen was awesome and they needed a vacation. And Juliet was already over there and he kind of missed her already, even if the rational part of his brain (which had gone suspiciously silent ever since they'd stepped foot in the stupid airport) knew that if _he_ was barely keeping his shit together right now, there was no way Juliet would have been able to. Queen Fang didn't even like other _cars_ on the road, for crying out loud, never mind a goddamn 747. Better that they sent her ahead, with a nice hunt with Eileen to distract her.

And of course it fucking figured that the two people he'd thought he could count on to get him through this nightmare were being grade-A douchebags about the whole thing. Sam had ditched them and Cas was about two seconds from smiting him. And seriously, what the fuck was Cas' problem? Dean knew it wasn't a fear of flying—the dude liked to _constantly_ and so _helpfully_ remind him that he'd once been able to fly to distant planets and back in the blink of an eye—so what was up Cas' butt?

 _Nothing fun_ , supplied the snarky asshole part of his brain, which had been making a strong showing, even over the din of the freaking out part of his brain.

He internally groaned at himself, then continued his awkward shuffle down the aisle, trying not to ram the person in front of him with his suitcase.

His breathing accelerated a little as they neared row 28. Oh goody, right over the wings and engines. Nice and loud, with that constant reminder that he was in fact on a damn _plane_ not on blacktop, cruising in Baby, or literally anywhere else. Cas squeezed his wrist a little, and Dean exhaled, but the relief didn't last long. The overhead bins over seats 28A-C were already full, and a quick look around didn't reveal any openings for their bags nearby.

Dean was about to simply shift some of the suitcases around to make room—he was pretty sure he could make luggage Tetris work—when Cas dropped his hand and addressed the woman in 27B while pulling down a bright pink and orange bag (tote? big purse?—even a year with Lisa hadn't been enough to sort out how many different types of bags women have).

"Personal items belong under the seat in front of you," Cas explained with such seriousness that the woman's eyes looked like dinner plates and she took the bag from him without question.

"Dick move, dude," Dean whispered to him out of the corner of his mouth.

"I'm not wrong. There's a limited amount of overhead compartment space. It's in the rules and regulations."

"What, you read the fuckin' manual?" Dean flipped a red suitcase up and pushed it to the right, then hefted his own Army green suitcase up and slid it in, then turned to Cas to take his bag.

"Yes." Cas slid into the row, taking the middle. Dean rolled his eyes and dropped down into the aisle seat. By the window, a sullen looking girl about Claire's age glanced at them, then went back to scrolling on her phone with her headphones on.

That probably wasn't a bad idea, now that he saw her do it. Standing up again, he fished his headphones and iPod out of his suitcase, then settled back down. Some soothing Metallica might help, especially since the flight attendants wouldn't be around with the booze cart for awhile.

"You know you'll have to put that away when we take off," Cas remarked just as Dean fired up "Enter Sandman."

"Killjoy." Whatever. He'd listen and get in the zone while he could.

 

* * *

 

With Juliet snapping at its heels, the last púca fell to the ground, a silver bullet in what passed for its heart. The clearing around them was soaked in their disgusting black sludge blood, but none of the bodies remained. That was probably for the best. Juliet wouldn’t have wanted to eat them, and humans always felt like they had to burn or bury things like that.

Eileen scanned the clearing with her eyes, probably looking for any more púca because she couldn’t smell them. Juliet carefully filtered the surrounding smells. All the blood on the ground made it hard to know for sure, but she didn’t hear anything— Wait, there!

There was a soft footfall across the clearing, barely audible to Juliet and of course silent to Eileen. Not wanting to signal her quarry, she leapt to the attack without alerting Eileen, who immediately brought her gun back up.

In the underbrush was a single púca wearing the form of a small pointy-eared greenish man. It still smelled like púca, so Juliet clamped her jaws around its arm before it could run away. Then, because it was in a small enough form for her to do so, she dragged it back to Eileen, its knobby toes scrabbling in the dirt to avoid injury to its arm.

When it saw Eileen, it started babbling. “Please, I beg of you, mercy! Call off your hound, release me! I want to make a deal!”

Juliet didn’t know how long it had been since her first master had left her, but she was still a hellhound and the word “deal” held a lot of weight where she came from. Uncertain, she looked at Eileen and whined around the hairy arm in her mouth.

Whatever magic Eileen used to let her understand words from seeing faces was absolutely amazing to Juliet, because it seemed Eileen had been able to decipher the púca’s words without hearing them. While Juliet was still learning how to read emotions on meat forms, the smile on Eileen’s face was one she knew well. It was the same smile her first master had worn when approaching a client who he _knew_ would sell their soul and the only thing in question was how little he could get away with giving in return.

With her gun aimed at the green púca’s chest, Eileen said, “Give me one good reason why I should.”

Juliet had no doubt that Eileen was going to negotiate a good deal.

 

* * *

 

Dean's humming was incessant. Whoever came up with the rule that all electronics had to be turned off during takeoff had clearly never had the pleasure of sitting next to Dean Winchester during the experience.

"You're fine. Take a deep breath. This is hardly worse than the horrors you've seen."

"Not helping, Cas!"

Rolling his eyes, Castiel settled back in his seat. There was just no talking to Dean when he was in such a state. Glancing out of the window, he could see hazy clouds against the black sky, lit up occasionally with the lights from the wings. If such ugly metal things could really be called wings.

He sighed. No sense lamenting what he couldn't change.

The plane leveled out eventually but it seemed to be an eon before the seatbelt sign turned off. By this point, Dean's humming had switched to something vaguely resembling Led Zeppelin, with what Cas thought might be a Taylor Swift song or two mixed in. But, he couldn't be completely sure and wasn't particularly inclined to find out.

_Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome aboard…_

The captain went through his usual spiel about their cruising altitude and estimated time of arrival. Castiel mostly tuned it out until Dean interrupted his thoughts.

"Wait, did he say turbulence?"

"I believe he said it would be minor."

"You weren't even listening!"

"I was, too." Mostly.

"Jesus Christ. Fucking planes…"

Castiel unbuckled his seatbelt and stood up. "I need to use the bathroom." He nodded in the direction of Dean's knees, which were blocking his path.

Dean narrowed his eyes. "You don't ever _need_ to use the bathroom."

"You're right. But I believe a change of scenery would do us both good right now."

Dean grumbled something under his breath, unbuckled his own seatbelt, and stood up to let Castiel by.

He made his way to the back of the plane, not really having anywhere else to go.

"Can I help you, sir?" The flight attendant was about his own height, and he flashed Castiel a very polite and white-toothed smile.

"Just going to restroom."

"Of course. I believe the one in the back is occupied, but if it's an emergency, there's one closer to first class."

"No emergency. I can wait."

The flight attendant looked relieved, probably having far more difficult passengers to deal with, then moved past Castiel to resume his duties.

He stepped into the bathroom for a moment or two when it was his turn, not wanting to arouse suspicions. By the time he returned to his seat, Dean was back to listening to music and seemed remarkably calm, by comparison to what he had been ten minutes ago. The girl by the window smirked slightly, but didn't say anything when he sat down again.

Only nine and a half more hours to go…

 

"Hello, sir, how is your flight going today?"

It was the same flight attendant as before, and Castiel made an effort to smile pleasantly. "Slowly. I used to be able to travel much faster."

The flight attendant's smile faltered just a bit. "Right. Well, the delay has thrown all of our schedules off a little, but we'll catch up. Captain says we have a good tailwind."

"No delays either," Cas remarked wistfully. Just instantaneous travel, no cramped seats or infuriating travel companions...

"Of course. Um, can I get you a beverage?"

Cas glanced at Dean, who was sitting with his hands clenched on the armrests, his eyes squeezed shut. Dean's headphones were back in place, and Cas could hear the tinny strains of AC/DC through them.

"I'll have a water. He'll have a whiskey."

"Of course, sir. Alcohol does cost extra, though."

"That's fine." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, then lowered Dean's tray table and his own. The girl next to him ordered a seltzer, and they were all given little bags of pretzels. Dean opened his eyes only when the cart moved by, the flight attendant accidentally having jostled his arm.

"Dude, awesome," Dean said when he saw the whiskey in front of him. "You're the best, Cas."

"It was self-serving," Cas muttered.

And in one go, Dean downed the drink, grimacing a little as he did. It probably wasn't particularly good whiskey, even for the exorbitant price Cas had paid for it.

"Think I can get another?"

"How about you wait a respectable ten more seconds before asking."

"You're no fun."

"I would disagree."

Dean did manage to wait while Cas tried to puzzle out the plot of the in-flight movie. He was fairly certain he was one of the only people watching, but he couldn't be sure if the...delights of Adam Sandler trying to serenade Drew Barrymore was the reason for the lack of interest, or because it was early in the morning, Kansas-time, and many of his fellow passengers were trying to sleep.

" _Happy Gilmore_ is way better than this," Dean said. "But don't tell Claire I said that."

"Why would I tell Claire that?"

"Never mind." He raised his finger to the call button. "Alright, I waited. Time for another drink."

"Five whole minutes? A record."

"Ha ha look at me, I'm Castiel and I'm _perfect_ ," Dean mocked.

"I wonder if crashing into the Atlantic is still an option."

Dean glared. "Not funny."

Cas let his mouth quirk up a bit at the corners. "It's a little funny."

"Don't quote me to me, asshole."

"Love you, too." There was a part of Castiel that still marveled at how easily those words came to him these days, both in all seriousness and in jest, but that part of him was being ignored in favor of the part of him delighting in Dean's slack-jawed lack of a response.

And before Dean could make a witty rejoinder, the flight attendant came and Dean ordered himself another whiskey, which he downed just as quickly as the first, then returned to his music.

"Oh no…" whispered a young female voice. Castiel turned to face the girl to his right.

"I'm sorry?"

The girl's dark eyes were wide. "Don't get angry, but when you were gone, I saw your boyfriend or whatever was freaking out, so I gave him some of my anti-anxiety pills. And if that's his second drink that quick…"

"Oh no," Cas echoed.

Dean Winchester was going to be the death of him.

Or he would be the death of Dean Winchester. Odds were pretty even at this point.

 

* * *

 

Pacing along beside Eileen, Juliet sulked. She was so sure Eileen was going to get a good deal, but she didn’t get anything. Not really.

She thought she was being subtle, but they hadn’t gone far before Eileen stopped, adjusted her face-glass things, and shook her head at Juliet. “You don’t agree with the deal I made, do you?”

How did she— Juliet’s master hadn’t been able to truly understand her until they were properly bonded. Eileen couldn’t even hear the sounds Juliet made, she could only watch.

Like a fire flaring out of smoldering coals, Juliet understood, and she was even more impressed. Eileen watched her and understood what her form was saying. Just like how Juliet was trying to understand the different expressions humans made with their meat.

Barking to confirm Eileen’s guess, Juliet sat and waited to hear what Eileen would say.

Rather than answering right away, Eileen furrowed her brow and tilted her head a bit. “Juliet, you know the difference between good people and bad people, right?”

Of course she did! Good people were for protecting and bad people were for killing. Her master said that most people were kind of in between, but that they got protected, too. Juliet was still working out how to figure out who belonged in which group, but her master usually knew.

“Well,” continued Eileen, “there’s good and bad monsters, too. You’re technically a monster, but you’re good. Those púca were bad, but that last one wasn’t. It was willing to try to stay out of trouble. It was just scared. If I can help it stay out of trouble, then I’ve done a good thing.”

What a smart mortal! While Juliet was still disappointed in Eileen for not including any meat in her deal, she could definitely appreciate helping a monster do not-bad things. To make sure Eileen knew she understood, Juliet leaned down and licked her hand.

Eileen grinned and patted her side. “I knew you’d understand. You’re a smart girl. Come on, let’s go.”

Letting her tongue loll out, Juliet cheerfully trotted alongside Eileen all the way back to where they had parked the car beast. Patiently waiting for Eileen to open the door for her, Juliet hopped into the front seat, wiggling around until she could get comfortable. It was a tight fit, but her master never let her ride in the front, so she was determined to make it work.

Sitting in the driver’s seat, waiting for Juliet to stop moving around, Eileen laughed. “You know there’s more room in the back, right?”

The back? Oh no. Juliet stopped squirming, even though she had one hind leg on the seat, one on the floor, and part of the door was digging into her flank. She wanted to sit in the front beside Eileen, but she still needed to be a good guard dog. Wiggling just a bit more, she put her head out the window so she could properly warn off the other car beasts.

Thus, when she smelled púca in the back seat, she almost got stuck trying to turn around. Barking and growling to get Eileen’s attention, Juliet had nearly gotten turned around when she noticed the other smell.

Eileen reached into the back seat and grabbed the small basket of coins — which wasn’t there before their hunt — then sat back down and set it on her leg. “What do you think, Juliet? Are they safe to touch?”

Though she hadn’t smelled any magic, Juliet sniffed the coins more closely to be sure, but there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with them. Giving a cheerful bark, she nudged Eileen’s hand with her nose, then set about trying to turn around again to face the front.

While Juliet turned around, Eileen sorted through the coins. “Some of these are really old,” she said. “It’s not a fortune, but I think once we trade these in, you and me are going to kick off this vacation right.”

Juliet had no idea what that meant, but it sounded good. Sticking her head out the window, she even managed to finally get comfortable. Her master had no idea how much fun he was missing.

 

* * *

 

Sam could get used to this. Obviously, there were reasons they didn't splurge for the nice hotels or first class seats often, but he had absolutely zero complaints about starting off his vacation far more relaxed and comfortable than he would have been if he'd been saddled with the Bickersons back there.

And yes, he was aware that Dean had tried to mess with him when he was boarding. He probably owed Cas something for stopping him, but then again, if he and Cas started keeping score where Dean was concerned, they'd probably go nuts.

He wondered how Eileen and Juliet were faring, but he wasn't about to turn off Airplane Mode on his phone to find out. He wasn't sure it really made a difference to the plane's computers, but he also wasn't in the mood to be proven wrong.

So, instead, he read his book and chatted amiably for a few minutes with the guy next to him, who reminded him of a slightly less crotchety version of Rufus and who confessed that the only reason he was flying first class was he'd been bumped from an earlier flight and had been upgraded as compensation. He had a complimentary glass of Malbec, and he honestly had no idea if it was a good wine or not, but his inexperienced tastebuds enjoyed it. When in Rome, right? He stretched out his legs in front of him and was considering checking out the free movie options in the little screen built into the seat in front of him when he heard an all too familiar voice all too close to where he was sitting.

"I just wanna see my brother. Sammy!"

"Sir, you're bothering the other passengers. I need you to take your seat."

"'S cool, buddy, just checkin' in on my little bro. Sammy!"

 _Oh shit. Was Dean_ drunk _? Where was Cas?!_

Sam turned just enough to see Dean grinning like an idiot over the flight attendant's shoulder, trying to wave at Sam and completely ignoring the increasingly stern expression on the flight attendant's face. Sam sunk back down into his seat.

"Friend of yours?" not-Rufus asked.

"Brother."

Not-Rufus glanced back himself. "Family, 'm I right?" He shook his head in commiseration.

Sam huffed. "Yeah."

"Sammy!"

"Sir, you _must_ return to your seat _right now_."

"Naw, man, it's just my br'ther. He doesn' mind. I just gotta tell him this flight is _great_ and I'm not even that mad he made me 'n Cas sit over the wings without the comfy chairs. 'M not! Honest." There was some shuffling. "Look, I'm jus' gonna say hi and see if he can get me s'more of those pretzels or somethin' or whatever ya got in first class, and then I'll go back…"

"Sir!" There was some more shuffling and scuffling, and then a new voice joined the commotion, this one much lower and official-sounding than the flight attendant's.

"Sir, I'm placing you under arrest until we land, at which point, you may face charges for disorderly conduct."

"Wha'? I'm not bein' _disorderly_ —"

By now everyone at the back of first class, and probably a good chunk of coach, was watching as the Air Marsal cuffed Dean and marched him towards two empty seats. Reluctantly, Sam got up and approached the flight attendant.

"I'm sorry, sir, everything is resolved; if you could just take your seat—"

"That's my brother. He going to be ok?"

The flight attendant shrugged. "Not my call. Air Marshal's got him for now. I don't advise going to talk to him." 

"Right. Uh, my...um...brother-in-law was sitting with him. Can I talk to him real quick?"

The flight attendant bit his lower lip. "I suppose. If you could be quick, though. I don't want to disrupt any other passengers or make this more of an issue."

"Yeah. Thanks. Uh, sorry. My brother's a terrible flier."

Sam was pretty sure the flight attendant wanted to say something like, _No shit_ , but his training and professionalism won over and instead he just nodded and said, "No problem."

Dean and the Air Marshal were just passing Cas' seat when Sam started making his way towards them. Dean, being drunk (and seriously, how had that happened? Sam didn't think it was possible for his brother to get this drunk that fast anymore), obviously thought he was speaking a lot quieter than he was, but it was about as subtle as a stage whisper.

"Cas! Help me out! Mojo me! I'm not the droid they're lookin' for!"

Cas just stared coolly at Dean as the Air Marshal pushed him forward. "I got you out of Hell once already. You can figure this out for yourself."

"Caaas!"

"C'mon, buddy," the Air Marshal commanded, getting Dean moving again. Sam was just glad that Dean went with little resistance.

"Cas!" Sam slid into Dean's seat and leaned close, lowering his voice, even though he was aware of all the eyes on them still. "What the hell happened?"

"It was my fault," a college-aged girl in the window seat said, her lower lip quavering.

"It was not your fault," Cas countered. "Dean is a grown man who knows better than to mix anti-anxiety medication with alcohol."

"Shit," Sam breathed out. "That was enough to make him go loopy?"

"Apparently."

"Can we help him?" Even if he had his FBI badge with him, which he didn't, he doubted it would do anything with an Air Marshal.

Cas sighed, then looked around the plane as if for ideas. "Not now. Perhaps when we land."

"What a dumbass."

"Indeed." Cas's mouth twisted up wryly at one corner. "I see why you chose different seating for yourself. Dean's your brother: you have to deal with him. For some reason, I actually chose this."

"To be fair, Cas, you weren't exactly super fun to hang out with either today."

Foot, meet mouth. Sam decided immediately that he much prefered not being the one on the receiving end of one of Cas' glares. How did Dean deal with this all the time? And why did Dean provoke it?

Crazy. That's what they both were.

And apparently made for each other, the grumpy assholes.

God, was he suddenly glad he had Eileen.

 

* * *

 

Juliet sat in the front seat of Eileen’s car beast, patiently waiting for Eileen to return. She had already traded their old púca coins to someone she trusted and had been given brightly coloured paper money in return, saying to Juliet, “I’m technically dead, so it’s a good thing I have a contact who isn’t.”

Eileen seemed very alive to Juliet, but she decided not to question it. She was used to her people saying confusing things. Before she could really think about it, though, Eileen mentioned meat, so the confusion was quickly forgotten.

Waiting was always so hard to do, and Juliet didn’t have anyone to keep her company, but Eileen had promised meat if she stayed in the car beast and kept out of trouble. Somewhere up above, flying things sang pretty songs. They were probably singing about not being chased and eaten.

Just as Juliet was considering whether she could hop out the window, catch a flying thing, and climb back in, she spotted Eileen, her arms loaded down with things that smelled amazing. Quickly putting on her most innocent face, Juliet gave Eileen what her master called “puppy dog eyes”.

Eileen took one look at Juliet and grinned. “I hope you were good, because I have a surprise.”

A surprise! Resisting the urge to bounce and paw at the car beast’s interior, Juliet quivered in happy anticipation.

Setting down her many packages in the back seat, Eileen opened one and held it out for Juliet. Even though she had smelled them amid the mess of other good things, Juliet barked excitedly when she saw the heap of pig innards. Sparing a moment to lick Eileen’s hand, Juliet buried her snout in the still-bloody mess and gobbled her treat.

Eileen’s face did a weird scrunchy thing. “Okay, that’s pretty gross, but I’m glad you like it.”

It wasn’t a lot, but it was tasty. Juliet licked the last bloody smear from the brown paper packaging. Hopefully Eileen would tell her master about the goodness of innards because Juliet very much liked them.

Tossing the packaging in the nearest trash can, Eileen then reclaimed her seat in the car beast and woke it up. It looked like she was about to make it move, but then she stopped and turned to face Juliet. “I almost forgot, I should tell you where we’re going.”

Juliet had thought they were going to go back to Eileen’s home until their people arrived. Tilting her head, she whined, only realizing afterwards that Eileen couldn’t hear her.

It didn’t matter, because Eileen answered her anyway. “I got enough money from those coins to book us two great big tents at a luxury campsite. There’s a river, trees, animals — you can chase them, but don’t hurt them — oh, and there’s campfires. I bought meat for us to cook on the grill plus lots of other things to eat and drink. What do you think? Does that sound like a fun vacation?”

It sounded like _lots_ of fun to Juliet. She was disappointed about the animals, but at least she could chase them, and that meant there would be plenty of things for her to do when her master decided he needed “alone time” with Cas. And campfires! Juliet didn’t know what made a campfire different from a regular fire, but any fire sounded amazing. She missed fires.

Squirming a bit, Juliet turned so she could nose at Eileen’s face, licking wherever she could reach. Eileen laughed and ruffled her ears before shoving her away. “Okay, I guess that’s a yes. We’re gonna go out there then, check into our campsite, and put the meat in our fridge before we go pick up the boys at the airport. We’re gonna have an awesome week, Juliet.”

Giving Eileen one last lick, Juliet sat properly in her seat, tongue lolling out in her excitement. She couldn’t wait to see her master again so they could explore the campsite together, whatever that was. She didn’t like being away from him for so long, and she only hoped that wherever he was, he was having as much fun as she and Eileen.

 

* * *

 

Getting cuffed and "politely" escorted to a different seat was a pretty good way to sober up quick, but unfortunately all that did was combine Dean's fear of flying with guilt and general thoughts of "oh shit" about the whole situation.

As a result, the remaining many hours of the flight were not pleasant.

"Hey, man, I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to cause any trouble." He lifted his cuffed hands. "Any chance we can do something about these? I promise I'll come quietly and all that when we land."

"No."

If there was one thing Dean learned, it was that the Air Marshal was a man of very few words. He could respect that about the guy, even if it wasn't exactly helpful.

He wondered what would happened when they landed. They'd be in Ireland, not the U.S., so what kind of jurisdiction did the Air Marshal have? Would he just be carted off to another flight back stateside?

Dean supposed it really said something about his life if the prospect of another trans-Atlantic flight in such a short amount of time bothered him more than being arrested.

Cas and Sam were gonna be _pissed_. Probably already were.

Maybe he'd summon up Juliet, get her to scare the bejeezus out of the Air Marshal and then they could make their escape. Could work. Juliet would probably be up for raising a little hell (heh). Just have to remind her not to use her teeth too much on the guy—he was only doing his job.

When they landed a million hours and far too much jerking around later ("minor" turbulence, his ass), Dean watched as Cas retrieved both of their bags and made his way down the aisle, glancing back at Dean only once with a stony expression. Dean tried to give him his best apologetic look. It might have looked pained as well, but that was partly because of the hangover he was quickly acquiring, too. It'd been a long time since that little alcohol had done this kind of a number on him, but that kid's meds had really put him over the edge.

Fucking hell. He'd really fucked up, huh?

The Air Marshal waited until the rest of the plane was empty, then marched Dean off the plane. After the third or fourth time, Dean stopped asking where they were going, once they reached the terminal. The hand on his bicep started to pull him away from all the signs that said hopeful things like Customs and Baggage Reclaim and Exit, and Dean gave up trying to find Cas or Sam in the crowd.

"Excuse me."

Dean whipped his head in the direction of Cas' voice and nearly tripped over his own feet as the Air Marshal stopped abruptly.

"Sir, I—"

Calmly, Cas raised two fingers to the Air Marshal's forehead.

"Cas, wait." The fingers paused, but the Air Marshal had dropped his grip on Dean's arm and was preparing to deal with this new threat. But Dean carried on, rushing his words. "How're we gonna explain a booped-unconscious Air Marshal at our feet? Someone's gonna notice."

"Good point." Cas instead waved a hand in front of the Air Marshal's face. "This is not the droid you're looking for."

"Oh, so now you get _Star Wars_ jokes?"

Cas shrugged. "It wouldn't be the first time. The Wookie ploy doesn't always work as well as expected."

Dean was pretty sure his brain was about to short circuit with that revelation, and so it took him a second to realize that the Air Marshal was standing there, looking quite confused and not at all interested in arresting Dean.

"How long's that gonna last?"

"Long enough to get you through Customs, I hope. Let's go." Cas took him by the wrist and led him away from the befuddled Air Marshal. "Can you get out of the cuffs?"

"Yeah, gimme a minute."

Dean jerked his head to the left, towards a men's bathroom. Once inside, he managed to fish out his lockpick set from inside his jacket and got to work. A minute later, he and Cas emerged from the bathroom, hand in hand, looking like any other touristy couple at an airport.

"Sorry about all of that," Dean said once they caught up to where Sam was waiting for them at Customs. He really did feel like an ass and he was surprised how calm and not bitchy Cas was being about it. He wondered if he should be worried.

"I'm sure you'll find a way to make it up to me," Cas replied, a little too easily, and suddenly Dean wanted very much to be out of the airport and in whatever little hotel room they'd booked for the night. He had a _lot_ of groveling to do, possibly on his knees, or in other positions.

Sam's expression was resting comfortably in bitch face as he stood guard over Cas and Dean's bags, as well as his own.

Dean tried a cocky grin. "Hey, uh, so how was first class? Nice flight?"

"Really, Dean? That's what you're gonna ask after you went full _Bridesmaids_ on us?"

"You've seen _Bridesmaids_?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and you have, too. Don't deny it."

"Well, yeah, Kristen Wiig—"

"Just stop, Dean. I'm booking myself on a whole different flight for the return."

"Aw, c'mon, Sammy, I wasn't _that_ bad."

Cas pulled out his phone. "Actually, I believe it's gone 'viral'."

"What?!" Dean stared at the blurry video on the phone of him making an ass of himself. "Sonofabitch."

"Claire sent it to me."

"God _damn_ it." How the hell had she found it that quickly? Dean shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and huffed. "Alright, alright. I deserved it. I'm sorry. Let's go. I got an angel to make things up to, a hellhound to...I'unno...can you really cuddle a hellbeast?, and you got a girl to see, Sammy."

And with that, he grabbed his bag and got in line for Customs. It was time to get this vacation started and the quicker he could get away from flying metal death traps, the better.

"Hey," he said as they made their way to the pick-up area where Eileen was going to meet them, "anyone wanna check out the Jameson distillery? It's not far."

"Too soon, Dean," Sam replied. Cas just answered with a stern look.

"Fine. No whiskey." He couldn't help but grin, even as he signed his own death warrant. "So...Guinness?"

Dean was pretty sure that the only thing that saved his bacon was Eileen's voice calling over to them and an unmistakable barking that made all the hairs stand up on the back of his neck, but in a good way. At least Juliet wouldn't be mad at him. Hell, he was pretty sure he still had some jerky in his bag, just in case.

He'd probably give it to her anyway. She was a good 'hound.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like our stuff, we have more!  
> [Thayer's works](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ThayerKerbasy/pseuds/ThayerKerbasy/works)  
> [Grey's works](http://archiveofourown.org/users/grey2510/series)  
> And we Tumblr! @[grey2510](https://grey2510.tumblr.com/) and @[thayerkerbasy](https://thayerkerbasy.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!!


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